


feast

by llaras



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Experimental Style, F/M, Food Sex, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-07
Updated: 2010-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llaras/pseuds/llaras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>food. journeys. love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feast

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://preromantics.livejournal.com/profile)[**preromantics**](http://preromantics.livejournal.com/) for [](http://community.livejournal.com/aiholidaybash/profile)[**aiholidaybash**](http://community.livejournal.com/aiholidaybash/). based on the work of e.e. cummings. mostly [may i feel said he](http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/e__e__cummings/poems/14215) and [i carry your heart with me](http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/e__e__cummings/poems/14130). approximately 1000 words. millions of thank yous to the many lovely people on my wonderful flist who previewed this and told me that it wasn't too freaky or weird. *hearts*

  


one). 


remembers, the feel of them in his mouth: earthy vegetables :wintery/biting warring with mellow/sweet: rutabaga, celery, parsnip, golden potato, carrot, turnip, onion and yam. after a while he can't discern one from the other. broth licks up the spoon, waves of promises)soup and succulence and security. salt. he burns for it.

and kris is there, smiling all white teeth, and tucking napkins under adam's chin, into his jacket sleeves, across his lap; feeding him nutty bits of brown bread and slices of greenest apple with the peel on while katy is there, smiling all white teeth, and cupping his cheek while he carefully sips from her small fingers, her crystal glass of ruby red, red

two 


wine. he tastes the dirt and the sunshine and the dew that made it(them.

(there's nothing wrong with a little wine with dinner)

they unwrap him slowly. with caresses.

(three) 


adam gasps awake on his side on the sofa. maybe too much wine too much soup too much katy and kris for dinner. but he's been too tired for too long (he yawns so wide as if to swallow the universe whole and he falls back asleep to dishes sploshing in the sink, kittens laughing in the kitchen, his stomach murmuring in satisfaction. it's terribly

cold, his face pressed against the glass of the car window. it's still that night or at least _a_ night and that fact steadies him, makes him grin happily. he's still wearing his boots. they are going somewhere, adam knows. somewhere there are trees and things that live in trees and under trees and the trees rush by so fast. the radio is playing quietly and they are

on their way somewhere.

kris's head is in his lap and adam thumbs the soft skin behind his ear, sings to him of dark days gone. kris strokes adam's knee and hums along.

.four. 


(where are we going)(nowhere we haven't already been on the way to)

(no path)(no path but what we make)(no maps for us)(no way that we can't find on our own)

..... 


katy is warm wiggly in his grasping hands, her nightshade skirts ride up, revealing tender ankles and knees and thighs oh my. she's saying something, breathing hot in his ear. he can smell-feel her: the tingling heat of her open mouth, the tart cherry slick of her lipgloss, her need to have his hands on her skin in all the right places. and so he shrugs internally) and stills her motion, one strong smack, one stern look --

she squirms and pushes

down

(yes, oh yes. adam, yes)

six? 


and kris is there. he's juggling peaches. they are perfectly blushed and fuzzily soft and they are dented from where adam's fingers pushed a little too hard but

kris knows how to manage them just right, how to keep them moving carefully from one warm open palm to the next, easy and calm; the slap of each fruit in his hands loud in the room until he suddenly stops, catches one heavy fruit mid-air, in his teeth, and bites

down

while the other two thud to the ground. the lucky peach is appreciative.

and adam tastes the juice from kris's

seven! 


and after the fruit basket that is katy -- kris is all spicy cake :cinnamon and ginger and clove: the kind you eat after a full meal with the strongest coffee you can brew, a warm glass of brandy and a perfectly firm, smooth, ripe pear. adam devours him, crumb by crumb, every lick of vanilla frosting, every juicy bite

down

a quivering belly and kris whimpers sweetly. so sweetly.

)eight( 


(what did you feed me)(nothing you haven't hungered for)

(come to bed)(we haven't eaten our fill)

adam rolls the jasmine-heavy essence of her on his tongue. flowers falling from the ceiling. clover honey and a heat so heady that when he's inside (in her, the shock of it like biting down on a hidden chili. it brings tears to his eyes and he flushes from head to toe.

and kris is there, basil and peppercorn, curry-laced kisses that take over, obliterate the smoothness of the tea. the burn only intensifies and it's difficult to savor this new dish :he has a sudden yearning for good gin and fresh limes: but he wants to take his time.

(fuck me, adam)

interlude 


everyeach thrust brings home all the flavors(sensations he wants kris to never forget :the slippery green of virgin-pressed olive oil, the sting of just-picked cilantro, the slight give of melon between the teeth, the joy of bright cumin, the quench of freshly-squeezed oranges, the melt of mango sorbet with fresh strawberry:

he wants kris to remember the last burst of anise. it's an acquired taste, you either like it or you don't. kris likes it

a lot.

9 


if he were to think thoughts small or large about dinner parties large or small adam thinks his thoughts would mostly be about the menu and his own appetite -- the things he has always loved to eat, the things he's always wanted to try.

so it's a surprise and pleasure to discover that he doesn't mind ripe raspberry-nippled breasts) and finds that dark chocolate girl kisses) are actually quite delicious. especially when paired with something he's quite fond of(kris. it's also quite exciting

to explore

and be discovered all at once in a feast(orgy of unparallelled richness.

t e n 


he was in hades waiting for the other pomegranate to drop.

but they came for him.

katy is driving the car and in her lap is a cornucopia of that precious fruit. they are on their way out. the road is treacherous, but she has a sure hand. she peels back the tough skin and places one jeweled kernel upon each of their waiting tongues. she doesn't change the station.

kris and adam fall asleep in the back seat to songs of trees. songs of journeys. songs of love.

adam dreams of spring.

.(eleven 


(come to dinner) that's the first thing he  



End file.
